by Jade Allen
“Was there an intruder?”
“No...well, yes, but...no.” Aiza held her head, her temples throbbing. She had a sudden spin of vertigo, and for a moment, she thought she might throw up. “God, my head is killing me.”
“Do you need me to pull over?”
She tried to shake her head, but the smallest motion sent another shard of pain through her temple. “I don’t know.”
“If you need to puke, let me know,” he said with a small smile. “Look, maybe we should go to the police.”
Her immediate reaction was to say no, but she bit that back. “In the morning. Please. I just need to rest.”
Noah nodded and she rested her head against the cool window. Her stomach was still roiling, her head hurt and her sides ached. He didn’t speak again and she was grateful for the silence.
****
Nearly thirty minutes after he picked her up, Noah came to a stop in front of what appeared to be a truly massive house.
“Is this yours?”
“No, I rent a room here. Sit tight, I’ll help you out.”
He came around to the passenger side and wrapped one arm around her shoulder, gently lifting her from the seat. She leaned heavily on him, and he practically carried her around the corner to the side entrance. The door opened to a narrow hallway, and he guided her to the final door, keeping his hold on her as he unlocked the door.
The room was small but meticulously kept. The only furniture included a bed—carefully made—an old recliner, and a television. He brought her to the bed and left her seated on the mattress.
“Were you in the military?”
“Marine. How did you know?”
“Just a hunch.”
“We should get you out of those clothes.”
“What?”
Noah grimaced. “I’m sorry, that came out wrong. Your clothes are wet. I have a nice dry robe. Why don’t you go change and I’ll make you something to drink.”
“Do you have whiskey?”
“Yup.”
“Perfect.” Aiza pushed herself to her feet, refusing his offer of help. “I’ll take a big glass of whiskey. Point me in the right direction.”
He pointed her in the direction of a washroom the size of a very small closet. The sink, toilet, and shower were the sort you might find in a small RV. She couldn’t imagine a man the size of Noah trying to wedge himself into the tiny shower every morning. The robe he offered her was several sizes too large, but she was happy to wrap herself in its soft folds, cinching the belt in a tight knot to keep it secure.
A brief glance in the mirror was all she needed to see that the accident in the truck added another bruise to her face. She ran her fingers through her tangled hair and splashed her face with water, but she still looked like an utter mess. Somehow, as bad as she looked, she felt even worse.
“I hope you have that whiskey ready for me,” she said as she emerged from the bathroom.
“Of course,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder to guide her to the La-Z-Boy. Beside it was a tray holding a glass of whiskey, a mug with a tea bag, and a bowl of soup. “I didn’t know if you were hungry, but I figured it couldn’t hurt.”
“Thank you. You didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”
“It’s not any trouble. I’m just being a good host.”
“No.” Aiza shook her head. “You’re being an angel.” Tears welled up in her eyes and she tried to blink them away, but her emotions couldn’t be stifled. “You’re being so nice and I don’t deserve it.”
He crouched beside the chair, directly in her field of vision. She had no choice but to look directly in his eyes—they were green, she noticed for the first time. “Don’t talk like that. I don’t know what you’ve been through or what that boyfriend of yours has done to you, but you do deserve basic kindness and a hell of a lot more than that.”
“You don’t understand. I’ve done...I’ve done some really bad things.”
Noah covered her hand with his much larger one. The back of his hand was covered in a deep tan and several much lighter scars. His fingers were warm, his skin smooth, and though she felt undeniable strength in his hand, his hold was unbelievably gentle. Her nostrils flared and she caught a scent that was both familiar and strange. She tensed and he immediately moved his hand away.
“Wait.” She caught his hand and briefly squeezed his fingers. “Are you—?”
“What?”
“Are you a werewolf?”
He tilted his head, studying her for a moment. “I am. I reckon you’re one, too.”
She nodded.
“You haven’t been one for long, though?” Noah guessed.
“No. Just this year.”
“Was your boyfriend a wolf?”
Aiza nodded.
“Did he make you?”
Aiza nodded again. Noah mimicked the motion, like he got the answer he expected. “Will you do me a favor?”
“What?”
“Will you eat your soup?”
“I will,” she said, but she reached for the whiskey. She gulped down half the glass before picking up the bowl. The broth had cooled enough to eat, and once she started, she realized how hungry she was. She couldn’t remember the last time she ate anything, and her stomach growled loud enough to make Noah smile.
“Just let me know if you want another bowl. There’s plenty more where that came from.”
“Did you make this?” Aiza asked.
“No, a friend of mine did. She brought me a whole gallon.”
“What do you need with so much soup?”
“She’s worried I’ll starve otherwise.” He shrugged. “There’s a McDonald’s down the block, but I guess that’s not good enough.”
“This is definitely better than McDonald’s,” she murmured before taking another bite. She nearly inhaled the soup and gulped down the rest of the whiskey before speaking again.
“Thank you. I feel much better now.”
He took the bowl and glass from her and she pushed herself to her feet, excusing herself to the bathroom. She was still struggling to tie up the oversized robe when she emerged, and by his sudden intake of breath, she knew he caught sight of the abrasions on her ribs. Some of them were bleeding again, and she’d tried to clean them up as much as possible, but she needed bandages.
“Good God, Aiza. Let me look at those.”
“No, it’s okay,” she said, holding the robe closed with a tight fist. “I’m okay.”
“Aiza, you’re bleeding and you need to be bandaged. I have a first aid kit. Please let me help you.”
She swallowed, realizing it was rather silly to let her wounds seep blood all night, and nodded. She sat on the bed and shrugged her right arm out of the robe, allowing the terry to fall open and expose the worst of the claw marks.
“That looks like a pretty bad fight,” he said.
“It wasn’t a good one.”
“This is going to sting a little.”
It stung a lot, actually, but Aiza didn’t visibly react. She overlooked the sting to focus on the gentle pressure of Noah’s fingers as he efficiently cleaned the claw wounds. The sudden coolness of the antibiotic balm brought a gasp to her lips and he gave her a sharp look.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good.” She offered a reassuring smile. “I’m actually feeling better already.”
He searched her face for a moment and then returned to his task. When he finished with the right side, she moved so he could focus on her back.
“He bit you.”
“I...I didn’t realize.”
“This might need stitches, Aiza. You should really go to the ER.”
“I’ll go to the clinic tomorrow,” she promised. “I need sleep more than anything. This will heal itself in no time.”
He didn’t offer another argument, and soon he had her completely bandaged, her ribs wrapped in tape. “I’ll reheat your tea.” He pulled a T-shirt from the top drawer of his dresser. “Get comfort
able. I’ll be right back.”
When he returned, she was curled up on his surprisingly comfortable mattress, nestled under the soft blanket. “Where are you going to sleep?”
“I’m not.” He offered her the mug. “I was on my way to a meeting when I saw you go off the road and they’re still waiting for me.”
“So, you’re leaving?”
“For a few hours. But I’ll lock the door behind me, and I promise you, no one will bother you here.”
Aiza nodded, too tired to argue. Her head was already on the pillow and her eyes were already falling closed. The last thing she was aware of was the lock of the door clicking shut.
****
By the time Aiza woke, her bruises were beginning to fade and the worst of the open wounds were starting to close, no stitches necessary. The room seemed homier in the warm afternoon sunlight. She stayed in the comfortable bed for a long time after she woke up, a part of her wishing she could just remain there forever. She felt safe and comfortable, warm and secure.
Hunger and a full bladder eventually drove her from the warm bed. Noah was nowhere to be seen, but she found more soup and cold beer in the fridge, and she helped herself to both. There was still pain in her ribs and neck, but she could move freely and she knew it wouldn’t be too much longer until she felt like herself again.
But what would happen after that?
She wanted to step back into her life, but could that even be possible now that her life was legally over? Aiza wasn’t sure about the legal implications of faking her own death, but she had the feeling it would just be one more thing for the district attorney to bring up in court.
With no phone, no money, and no idea where she even was, Aiza felt a little like a prisoner. She paced around the small apartment and even ventured into the narrow hallway, but the sudden scent of a dozen wolves drove her back, the door closing quickly behind her. She had no way of knowing if the other wolves were friend or foe, and she wasn’t in a hurry to find out. With no other options, Aiza crawled back into bed and almost immediately returned to sleep.
When she woke up again, she wasn’t alone.
“How are you feeling?” Noah asked.
“Better.” She gently ran her fingers over her ribs. “Much better.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear it. Are you hungry?”
“Yeah. I helped myself to some soup earlier.”
He smiled. “That’s fine, that’s what it’s there for. I ordered some Chinese and it should be here soon. Let me have a look at those bandages.”
She patiently allowed his inspection, performing one of her own while he was distracted with his task. His face was even more handsome than she remembered, his brow creased with concentration, his full mouth set in a thin line. In the light, she could see his hair was closer to blonde than brown, and pale whiskers sprouted across his chin and cheeks. He wore a dark T-shirt pulled tightly over his broad shoulders and solid chest, and the memory of what that chest felt like made her shiver.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Oh, yeah, just a little chilly.”
He helped her replace her clothes and stood up with a small nod. “You’re going to be fine. Is there anybody you’d like to call? Or maybe I can give you a ride somewhere?”
“I’d appreciate a ride home.” She frowned. “Where are we?”
“Yakima.”
“Oh. Do you mind taking me all the way back to Portland?”
He shook his head. “I don’t mind at all.
“Thanks. I appreciate that and, well, everything. More than you can know.”
A knock on the door pulled his attention from her, and as soon as she caught a whiff of the Chinese food, her stomach cramped with hunger. She felt like she hadn’t taken a bite in weeks and began to devour an order of boneless spare ribs. Noah didn’t seem to mind, though he did eat his skewer of teriyaki beef a considerably slower pace. A few times, she caught him watching her with a strange smile on his face, as though she were a particularly amusing sort of puzzle.
“Before we head to Portland, I was hoping you’d come to my office,” he said as he reached for a second skewer.
Aiza paused between swallows. “Your office? Why would I want to go to your office?”
“To make a statement.”
“A statement?” Her eyes widened. “You’re a cop.”
“Well, no, I’m not a cop. But I am a federal officer.”
Aiza’s involuntary gasp drew a piece of pork down her throat and quickly turned into a ragged cough. He jumped to his feet to her assist her, slapping her between the shoulders to dislodge the food.
“What...you’re a...a federal officer?”
“I work for H.O.W.L. Have you heard of it?”
“Homeland Department of Wolfs and Lycanthropes,” Aiza stated numbly.
“Yes. We’ve been investigating the Wolf Brotherhood and your old friend Dwight for a very long time.”
“So...you didn’t just happen to find me, did you?”
Noah shook his head.
“You were following me.”
“We’ve been staking out his cabin for some time,” Noah said.
“So...you knew about the attack, too?”
“Yes. I know a great many things, Aiza, and you don’t have to be afraid of me. I want to help you.”
“How can you help me?” Aiza demanded. “I’m...I’m guilty, too.”
“Guilty of what? Being Dwight’s accomplice?”
“Yes, for starters.”
“Aiza, you and I both know that Dwight forced you to do things.”
“Forced? He never...he never forced me. I...I made my own decisions.”
“Including the decision to attack your sister?” Noah asked softly.
“How did you know about that?”
“I told you, I know a great many things. He told you to attack her, didn’t he?”
Aiza nodded slowly.
“He planted that suggestion as your maker. God knows what else he planted in your head. Now that he’s dead, his control over you will fade. Make a statement. Explain what happened. Then instead of being a suspect, you’ll be a witness.”
“Against who? Dwight is dead.”
“Against the Brotherhood.”
“Oh no. Oh no, no, no. I’m tired of them tangling in my business and I don’t want to have anything to do with them. If I testify against them, they’ll catch wind that I’m actually still alive and they’ll come after me.”
“We’ll keep you safe,” Noah promised. “I’ll keep you safe.”
Aiza shook her head. “Excuse me if I’m not impressed with the promise. I mean, they attacked me in my own home. How will you stop them?”
“Well, for starters, I’ll make sure they can’t find you.”
“So...if I help you, I can’t go home.”
“Not right away,” Noah conceded. “But when it’s all over, you can go back to your home. Your bar. Your life.”
“My bar,” she murmured. “You already know everything, don’t you? What will happen to me if I don’t cooperate? Will I be placed under arrest?”
“Not by me, certainly. But the local authorities might have different ideas. Especially if they’re on the take.”
“So, if I tell you everything I know about Dwight and the Brotherhood and...everything, I won’t be sent to jail?”
“No, you will be given full immunity and protection.” Noah leaned forward, his eyes serious, and she had no choice but to meet his gaze. She felt like he was looking right through her, and it was impossible not to squirm under the weight of his stare—until she realized that he wasn’t trying to pick her apart; he was giving her the chance to read his face, and even his soul, before she made her decision.
“Okay.” Aiza took a deep breath. “I’ll do it.”
His face broke into a wide smile. It was the nicest smile she had ever seen, and under any other circumstances, it would have been impossible not to return the gesture. “You made the right choi
ce. I promise you.”
“Are we going to do this now?”
“If you’re ready. Or you can rest here for another night and we’ll head over first thing in the morning.”
Aiza opted for the morning, thinking that would give her time to gather her thoughts and prepare herself, but she passed the whole night in nervous agony. Noah disappeared again just after ten—no doubt on official business—giving her plenty of space and time to sleep, but instead she tossed and turned on the narrow bed, seeing Dwight’s face every time she closed her eyes. She tried to reason with herself; she tried to accept that she would be truly free of him, but an unidentifiable dread settled in her stomach and make itself at home there.
Noah returned the next morning just after dawn with coffee and bagels. Aiza was already awake and dressed when he opened the door, and he didn’t comment on the bags under her eyes or the carefully made bed. She ate in grateful silence, her appetite still making itself known despite the nerves twisting her stomach into knots.
Once she was done, she signaled her readiness and he led her to the car. He walked with long, deliberate strides, his posture perfect, his carriage one of supreme confidence. The sun caught the blonde highlights in his hair and the golden hue of his skin, and she had the feeling he spent far more time outside than he did sitting behind a desk. It was easy to imagine him fishing beside a mountain stream or rock climbing or sailing.
“Who else will be there?” Aiza asked, wondering if he could hear the tremor in her voice.
“My partner, Dana.”
“Should I have a lawyer?”
“You’re not being charged with anything, but you’re welcome to have an attorney present.”
“I have one...I mean, I know one. He’s not a criminal attorney, though. He worked with me when I purchased the bar.”
“I can help you find one.”
“But I’m not being charged, you said.”
“Not a public defender. There are plenty of wolves who provide their services pro bono. I know a few; I can call them when we get there.” He offered her a reassuring smile. “I want you to be comfortable, Aiza. You’re going to be a very big help to us.”
“Thank you.” It did seem like a good idea to at least consult with a lawyer before she spilled her guts and incriminated herself. Why would they offer her full immunity when Dwight was already dead? She didn’t know anything else about the rest of the Brotherhood—the only members she ever met, she killed. It was in self-defense, true, but what proof did she have of that?